all ''good'' things....

The last time I wrote was around the time of my birthday. My over all mood and attitude was a pretty good one, and that was credited to prayer on my half and the prayers of others that I enjoy my day, but behind the scenes, I was coming a bit... undone. Here's the thing: ever since I started this blog, I haven't been able to be completely candid like I prefer. The story being told is mine, but when you have significant people in your life who prefer to remain anonymous, you have to put an invisible leash on your tongue, and in this case, finger tips. And that was an issue that eventually became mutual because of all the people who actually knew 'us' who wanted to see us fall, and have been vocally active in the whole process, but that's a whole 'nother blog. So I took the time in between postings to stop blaming myself for others actions and make an effort to enforce some changes. I hate the weak pisces part of me that hears people out and argues back and forth until my p.o.v. is understood. But after everything is said and done, I am asking myself, like for real, "who cares if I'm understood?" and I'm choosing to completely be. And one thing that I am is open, I know I can't receive anything real with my heart closed.

Turning another year older has engraved permanent lessons in my head. The major one is learning how to appreciate the ''bitter sweetness'' of life because things we don't want might just be the thing we need. Even though I'm sad that it's over, I've learned things that 

will stop a lot of pain in the future. The grooves in my heart are constant reminders that even some of the prettiest faces can have the ugliest of ways and say the ugliest things in hopes that you will feel ugly as well. All because of fear. Fear of being hurt or disappointed by someone else, of opening up and telling someone your inner thoughts. The conscious act of making yourself vulnerable. Stripping away the labels, designers, and accessories leaves us with just us. The undesirable truth is that most people don't feel good enough. That if they truly let down their guards and exposed their quirky-ness that the object of their affection won't accept them. Don't think so? If everyone kept it real, there would be no need for 'the game'.. so people conform because it's so easy, or hold onto past hurt so long that all that they see when they look into the face of their loved one is hurt. I get it completely, but can't get with the concept of being chained down emotionally and not being able to experience love in the fut

ure because of those issues. That's one of the reasons I write: to record the mini obsessions of my life before they become major obsessions. Usually after I re read, I quickly realize just how long one thing has took over my mind and it's easier for me to "get over it already"!

All in all, I'm disappoint

ed on how things ended: with one person playing dumb on all substantial points, the other, comfortable with the possibility that some things will never

change, and maybe this concept wasn't meant for me to get. Either way is bad in terms of the status of "we".

There's some things as a person you should never settle for that cause unhappiness. That's for men and women alike, and neither should feel bad because things just don't work out sometimes. That's where I'm at with it. We get along great as friends but as a couple, ended up not being strong enough. Just... I'm usually good at this. I'm good at picking people I'm compatible with and am usually best friends with my boyfriends while we date. Maybe we could still be friends after all this blows over. Who knows. Regardless, this guy inspired me to spread myself in different ways and I thank him for that. Before I left the last time we saw each other I remembered my last project. My first portrait that I decided to do months ago but for some reason never finished. Honestly, I didn't want to keep it as a token of anything so I left it as a gift. But I did want to take a picture just to say: I did that. 

     "Do you mind doing me one last favor?" I asked.

     "Sure. What is it?" he asked cautiously, raising his eyebrows.

     " You mind taking a picture of me holding this out back? My camera's in the car." I looked down at the picture, and felt the canvas.

     "Sure."

     "It's funny that I'm not keeping my first painting." I said jokingly, taking him in.

     "Naw. You not supposed to. That's the whole point." he replied, smiling at me.

     "Yeah, I guess so. You know paintings and stuff only get appreciated after the artists' dead." I responded a-matter-of-factly. He says nothing.